IX. Exhibition
Her uncle's shop was busy, as it often was these days. Because of the current political climate, the nation's Jewish populace often didn't have very many places to shop for goods such as food and clothing. Their only options were the Jewish owned businesses in their own neighborhoods, though there were fewer and fewer of those as time went on. Thankfully, her uncle had some connections with several foreign manufacturers, and they sold him goods at a discount. His shop was probably the only thing keeping the surrounding neighborhood supplied.
There were no less than thirty people inside the small store at any given time. After one customer left with their purchases, another would enter. This often went on for hours as there was usually a long line found outside the shop, composed of people needing to buy food and other essentials.
The girl, a teenager with rich black hair tied back into a long braid, worked the counter. She had dark blue eyes and a spatter of freckles upon her pale cheeks. A pair of thick glasses made her look a bit bookish, which added with her shy demeanor made her seem very delicate. She had gotten the job from her uncle, who ran the store, and he payed her as much as he could spare. Although they tried to hide it, he knew that his brother's family was going through rough times. Anton had been fired from his high-paying teaching position at the university two years ago and, sadly, had never recovered. He often stayed at home, moping about one thing or another, barely talking to anyone. He had also taken to drinking, and was quite unpleasant to be around when he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle. To support the family, the girl and her mother had gotten jobs wherever they could.
"Thank you very much, please come again," the teenager told the old woman who had just bought some eggs, milk and flour. The aged lady shuffled off with her purchases, and the girl quickly turned to the next customer. Before she could help him though, she heard a commotion from the front door.
Stepping into the shop was a sight no one in a Jewish-owned business wanted to see. The crowd at the entrance parted, and in their wake came a man dressed in a full SS uniform. He was a chubby man, wearing spectacles over calculating, hazel eyes. Following behind him was another figure, this one much more imposing. The SS officer's companion was immensely tall and also wore a military uniform, though his looked to be from the regular army. The brim of his cap and the collar of his long greatcoat obscured most of the man's features. His entire demeanor screamed danger, and his cold eyes struck one to the bone with fear. All of the customers upon seeing the two quickly fled, escaping the confines of the store in an orderly yet rushed manner.
The girl's uncle paled, while the girl herself turned her attention to the counter top, her heart beating madly in her chest. After looking around the shop for a bit, the chubby man moved towards the two of them while his giant of a companion remained standing stiffly near the entrance.
"G-good morning, sir. What can I do for you today?" Her uncle moved up to the front of the counter, subtly interspersing himself between the man and his niece.
"Good morning," the Nazi greeted, a pleasant smile on his face. "Actually I was hoping to speak with the lovely young woman over there." The man pointed to the teenager cowering behind him.
Her uncle frowned. "What is this about?"
The chubby man ignored the question and turned his eyes towards the girl. "Hello there! Would you happen to be Freulein #######?"
The girl, obviously quite terrified, continued to stare at her feet. Eventually, knowing that she had to answer, she nodded.
"Ah good," the SS Officer clapped his gloved hands together, seemingly pleased. He then turned his attention back to her uncle. "Leave us," he ordered.
"What?" Her uncle looked extremely worried now, his white face turning paler. "Now see here..." He wanted to protest further but was forced to silence by a withering stare from the tall man at the front entrance. The uncle quieted down, rubbing at his short blond hair. Knowing that he really didn't have any choice, the poor man left. He looked extremely ashamed as he passed by his niece.
"Well, then," the chubby man continued, his voice speaking in a friendly, pleasant tone. "Let us get down to business, shall we?" He quickly held up his right hand and smiled. "I am Major - -."
The girl frowned at his hand, but reached up and shook it anyway. Upon grasping it, the Major leaned forwards and for a moment she was worried that he would kiss her hand, but thankfully the man stopped some inches above the skin, merely bowing low.
"I am so pleased to meet you finally," the man continued as he straightened up and let go of her hand. "I have heard so much about you."
"Me?" The girl squeaked out pitifully.
"Now now, Fraulein #######, there's no need to sound so modest!" The Major laughed. "One of such talents need not hide it. I actually saw you trying out for the Olympic team. Your marksmanship was superb! Every shot always found its mark! I have seen many a veteran soldier from many, many battlefields, and they are masters at their craft, but you, my dear, are on a whole other level. You are... like the hunter of legend; your bullet never misses."
The girl continued to frown, looking at the Nazi dully as he continued to taut her talents. She had heard it all before, of course, even from the judges at the Olympic tryouts. But once they saw her last name, all their praises turned to jeers and before they expelled her. She found herself feeling bitter about the entire situation; what was the point of having such a talent when she would never have the chance to use it?
"Anyway, you are probably curious as to what I am doing here. I know, in your position, I would be. I mean, a Nazi. In a Jew shop! Oh, the scandal!" He chuckled before continuing. "Ah, where to begin? Hmmm." The Major paced for a moment, a fingertip tapping his chin in thought. He eventually stopped pacing, then leaned towards her, elbows atop the counter. "I am the head of a very... unique branch of the Waffen SS. We look for very special people, such as yourself, in hopes of finding out just what exactly makes you so special. We have the top scientific minds of the nation at our disposal, and work for the good of all the citizens of Germany." The Major's eyes began to widen as he talked, and the girl could see a spark of manic joy within them as he described his organization. "We are Millennium. We work towards conquering the future! We work towards a thousand years of glory!"
The girl merely stared in wide-eyed shock as the strange man in front of her ranted. She had to admit, his words were electrifying; she felt her pulse racing, impressed at such grand ideals. Was this how Hitler did it? Was this how he roused up his supporters to greater and greater heights of madness and cruelty?
"And," the Major continued, "We want you to join us."
The teenager's eyes only widened even more. "M-me?" The man nodded. "I'm sorry, you want me to join the SS?" She asked again, completely stupefied at such an offer. The man nodded even more eagerly. "B-but, sir. I am a woman. And... and a Jew." She stated the obvious, speaking slowly as if she were talking to a mentally challenged child.
"Bah!" The Major waved his hand and rolled his eyes, as if the concerns she had raised were completely arbitrary. "We have plenty of women in our ranks. Plus, we serve the Fuhrer more in a research capacity, so you will not see combat. As for your heritage, well, technically you are Mischling, a half-breed. Your mother is Aryan, is she not?"
The girl nodded.
"Well, there you go. Personally I don't really understand this whole Jew, no Jew policy. I mean, a Jew soldier can still kill and get killed, can he not? What does race got to do with shooting straight? I don't get it." He then shrugged and laughed. "Ah, but I don't make the rules. Richer, smarter men than me do that. My job is to make sure that they continue to do so." Upon seeing that the girl still wasn't convinced, he continued to make assurances. "But if you are still concerned, then we can get a writ of exemption for you, signed by the Fuhrer himself! Oh yes, our great leader listens to me you know. I have his ear."
The Major leaned in closer to her, his voice dropping to a whisper. His eyes narrowed, the irises behind his spectacles glinting with amusement. "Trust me, fraulein. He will sign. Once he sees what you are capable of, he will most definitely want you on our side." The chubby man then abruptly pulled back and gave her a friendly, personable smile. "Well, think on it. Here is my information," he reached into his coat and pulled out a small business card, placing the white square atop the counter for her to take. "If you have any questions, please phone me. I am always happy to help potential members with any concerns they may have. Now then, good day."
The Major bowed, then turned swiftly on a heel and marched towards the exit. Before leaving, he stopped by the door and glanced around, his eyes taking in the details of the shop. "One more thing, fraulein. I feel as though it is my duty to give you some warning." His hazel eyes drifted back to her and he smiled. "There may be a storm coming, a storm caused by the more... exuberant members of my party. When that storm comes, places such as this," he waved his arms to encompass the shop, "may be blown over. It is my advice that you have someone watch over the ones you care about."
The girl's held her breath, thinking of her uncle, with his shop his only livelihood. She thought of her cousin, Greta, who had studied so hard at school yet could not gain entrance to a University. She thought about her poor mother, so hard at work at the factory, making so much less than she should. And then she thought of her father, the poor broken man who was once so strong.
"And who better to watch over your friends and loved ones, to guard them against the wolves that may come, than one of the wolves themselves?" The Major grinned. "Think on it, fraulein." With a tip of his hat, he was gone. Soon the tall man followed him, leaving without a word, and so the girl was left alone in the shop.
She told her parents over dinner that night about the strange conversation she had just had. Upon hearing it, her father brightened considerably.
"You see, Ada," he said, a rare smile on his face. "Didn't I tell you this madness would soon pass? I told you that as soon as things got better, all this nonsense would end. And see? A member of Hitler's own SS wishes for our daughter, OUR daughter, to join their ranks! I was right, Ada! I told you!" He laughed, though it sounded somewhat desperate. "Pretty soon things will get back to the way they were before. Germany will survive this, like I said! You were worried over nothing."
After that, her father continued to pester her to call the Major and accept his offer. Eventually he broke down her resolve; most people usually did. She was a shy, gentle girl and very often could never muster up the courage or will to say no. She found that it was usually better to just let things happen as they do and accept things as they come.
When she did call the Major and told him that she agreed to join his group, the man sounded very pleased. "Excellent. Welcome aboard."
And just like that, she had become a Nazi.
0
Louise was surprised to find her familiar seated at one of the round tables in the courtyard during so early an hour. She had just finished breakfast and had some time before her first class of the morning, so she was heading to the library to do more research on Rip's bizarre runes. That was when she came across the dark haired woman, seated alone at the table, her stolen parasol open and held overhead. The ever present musket was also with her, laying across the table and within easy reach.
As she approached, Louise's ears picked up on a strange, lilting sound. It was then that she realized that her familiar was singing a song softly to herself. As she got closer she managed to make out the words. The tune was soft, though the softness in which it was sung held an ominous tone.
"Schweig, schweig, damit dich niemand warnt...
Schweige, damit dich niemand warnt...
Der Hölle Netz hat dich umgarnt...
Nichts kann vom tiefen Fall dich retten,
Nichts kann dich retten vom tiefen Fall!
Umgebt ihn, ihr Geister, mit Dunkel beschwingt!
Schon trägt er knirschend eure Ketten!
Triumph, Triumph, Triumph, die Rache gelingt!"
Rip stopped singing when she noticed Louise standing nearby. A frown twisted her lips, and she was slightly annoyed at the audience. But her gruff look quickly vanished after a moment, and soon the sniper gave the girl a small smile. "Guten morgan, Louise."
The pink haired girl was snapped out of her stupor and coughed, slightly embarrassed at being caught listening. "Oh. Um, good morning." She quickly took a seat at the table, directly across from her familiar. "That was... wow. I didn't know you could sing."
The dark haired woman chuckled, her dull eyes twinkling in amusement. "Nonsense. I am just a simple marksman, my voice is amateurish at best. Vhen compared to zose performers on stage, I am nothing."
"No, no! I mean it! You have a beautiful voice. I... I'm just surprised I never noticed." Louise bit her lip, then clapped in delight. "Oh! That's what you can do at the fair! You can sing!"
Her familiar only looked at her with a blank expression. "Ze vat?"
"The Evaluation Fair!" Louise told her. Upon seeing the woman's continuing bewilderment, she explained further. "You know, the Familiar Evaluation Fair? The one all second years are required to participate in?" Still blank. "The one where students show off their familiars' abilities to an audience and judges?" Her familiar continued to look on in confusion. "The one I've been talking about for the past two days?!"
"Oh. Zhat." Rip shrugged. She sort of recalled Louise talking about something along those lines, but she had been distracted and hadn't been paying very close attention. It had been almost a week since her duel with Guiche, and in that time her dreams had been coming with increasing frequency. Images and memories best left forgotten continually assaulted her while she slept, and she had been debating whether or not to use one of Dok's pills.
Four left.
"It'll be great!" Louise continued, snapping Rip out of her dark thoughts. "To show off your talents, you can sing one of your Germanian songs and wow the judges with your voice! We can even dress you up in a costume! You'll look great in a dazzling robe! Or maybe a gorgeous gown or a jeweled cape!" The pink haired girl was almost squealing in girlish glee, very much looking forward to dressing up her familiar like a doll. "Ha! Let's see Kirche's stupid salamander do anything like that!"
"No, I don't sink so," Rip said, her face twisted in distaste upon hearing the part about dressing up. "I sink I'll just shoot at targets."
"But... but!" Louise looked up and gave her familiar the most devastating kicked puppy look Rip had ever seen. The vampire cringed, and it took all of her demonic willpower not to give in.
"Nein," the dark haired woman said with finality. "I am a sharpshooter, little master. Zhat is vat I shall do."
"Oh, fine!" The girl relented, though mentally she swore to herself that she'd get her familiar to wear a dress one of these days. "But you better not miss!"
Rip laughed. "Louise, please. I never miss."
0
The woman known as Ms. Longueville looked down at the items collected atop the desk, going over all of them to make sure that she was ready for what was to come. Allayed before her were maps of the school grounds, the positions of the Academy sentries marked in red ink. Her wand lay ready, as did a cloak that was enchanted to hide her identity. There were bags of jewels and gold coins appropriated from some of the nearby noble estates, which would allow her to pay her way out of the country when she made her escape.
Finally, after months of work laying in wait at this school, performing menial tasks and putting up with the perverted old fool of a Headmaster, she was ready to strike. The Evaluation Fair would be the perfect time to pull off her heist. With the Princess Henrietta in attendance, the majority of Academy security had been co-opted to guard her. That would leave the school's vault ripe for the picking.
And within it the Staff of Destruction, the legendary magical artifact that allowed even the weakest Dot mage to defeat a dragon in one blast. If she could retrieve that powerful item, then she could guarantee the safety of those she cared about.
"I won't fail," she told herself with grim determination. Foquet the Crumbling Dirt never failed.
0
The day of the Familiar Evaluation Fair had finally come. A large stage had been erected in the main courtyard, with seats for the audience placed in front of it. Off to the side, a separate shaded tent had been put up in order to house the judges, one of whom was the current ruler of the country.
The students who were participating were very excited. For days previous they had been working with their familiars to practice for the upcoming event. They trained their beasts to perform all manner of tricks, from catching tossed items to balancing on balls. Kirche had even taught her salamander Flame to belch out fire that was twisted into intricate shapes. All in all the festival was truly a chance for the students to show off their familiars to their peers and family, also serving as a debut of sorts for the up and coming mages.
Louise, unlike her classmates, fretted in nervous anticipation. Unlike the rest of the students, who saw the event as a fun and exciting distraction from classes, she knew that she needed to do well. She had actually managed to summon a pretty impressive familiar, and she wanted everyone to know it. She wanted Rip to win! After all, the familiar is a reflection of its master, therefore the accomplishments of the familiar are also those of its master.
Rip, in contrast to her summoner, showed no nervousness whatsoever. She was currently seated in the grass, leaning against the stone wall next to the stage. Her musket was draped across one shoulder, right hand resting lazily against the barrel. Her left held up a musket ball, and she was ever so slowly rolling the lead sphere between her fingers. The dark haired woman's face was blank, her features drooped down in an almost stupor whilst she rolled the dark lead ball over and over again. Through the thin fabric of her gloves, her fingertips were able to feel every groove, every scratch, every imperfection in the smooth metal. She noted its color, its smell, its weight. She memorized all of the tiny details, imprinting everything into her mind. Only once she was able to fully picture the bullet, with all of its characteristics and imperfections inside her head, did she finally push the ball into the muzzle of her gun. She then used the ramming rod to jam the .75 caliber ball all the way down into the breech where it became seated tightly into the powder. Once fully loaded, the familiar leaned back and raised her head up towards the sky, calmly waiting for their turn on stage. The sun felt warm on her pale face, the rays causing her skin to slightly tingle and burn. It was painful, but harmless. The pain was calming in its own way.
"Are you ready?" Her diminutive master asked from nearby.
Rip gave the girl a sardonic grin. "Ov course, little master. I am alvays ready to set loose my jezail."
0
The Exhibition commenced. The second year students all gathered next to stage, each of them eagerly awaiting their turn. Their familiars were just as excited, wishing to serve their masters well in performing to the amusement of the audience and judges.
Most of the tricks done by the participants were less than stellar, like the boy who had his dog jump about on stage on its hind legs or the girl who had her cat chase a ball of yarn. Guiche, still moping from his loss at the duel, tried his best to be his usual flamboyant self, but everyone could tell he really wasn't into it. As soon as he stepped up onto the stage, he introduced his mole Verdandi to the assembled guests, then created some blooming roses for the giant rodent to play on. The blond boy then quietly left the stage, not even bowing to the applause like he usually would have.
The rest of the students did quite better. Montmorency's show was quite entertaining, as she played the violin while her little frog danced to the tune. Malicorne had his owl fly around the courtyard, a stream of colorful ribbons trailing behind in its talons. Kirche impressed a lot of people when she had Flame create startling shapes from the fire of its breath. But perhaps the most spectacular display was Tabitha's; the blue haired girl had her dragon Sylphid perform a set of impressive airborne acrobatics while she rode bravely upon its back. It was quite the sight to behold, to see a young and delicate looking girl masterfully command such a powerful beast.
Finally, it was Louise and Rip's turn. Professor Colbert announced Louise's name, and the two marched steadily on stage. There were whispered comments from the audience, as many students wondered what Louise's familiar would be up to. They were very eager and anticipated a fine show, one that they hoped would be just as exciting as the duel with Guiche had proven to be. Some of the visiting guests, those who weren't at the school during said event, murmured in confusion to themselves, wondering why the short girl on stage had brought a tall dark haired woman carrying a musket with her and not some type of magical creature.
"I..." Louise addressed the audience nervously. She had a pensive look on her face, looking as if the audience might leap up and bite her face off at any moment. "I..." Her pink eyes glanced to the far left of the stage and found the tent which housed the two judges. There she met the Princess's eyes, whereupon the royal gave her an encouraging smile. This seemed to give the young girl strength, and she quickly turned back to the audience and finished her introduction. "I am Louise Francois le Blanc de la Valliere, and this is my familiar, Rip Van Winkle."
Rip raised an eyebrow at such a familiar display occurring between the royal and her master. Perhaps the two knew each other? Most curious.
"Her type is... um..." Louise continued, though her face suddenly turned red.
"Go ahead, Louise," Kirche called out. Though her tone was disparaging, she honestly wanted to know. There were all sorts of rumors going on as to just what her familiar actually was. Was she a commoner? A wind mage? A foreign monk from the mysterious east who used some weird sort of esoteric fighting style?
"Yeah, tell us!" called out another student. His entreaty was followed by others, until finally, Louise just couldn't stand it anymore.
"She's a COMMONER! Alright?!" She shouted.
There was a mixture of disappointment from some in the audience, along with cheers of glee from others, as some hopes were dashed while others raised. From the back of the assembly where the teachers were, there was much grumblings of irritation as the professors began taking out various sums of gold and passing it over to members of the Academy staff. It was quite obvious that a few bets were made, and a lot more lost.
"What? A human familiar?" asked some of the guests who hadn't been there for the duel.
"My word!"
"My familiar will now show you all a feat of amazing marksmanship!" Louise continued, ignoring the small uproar her previous proclamation had stirred.
Seven manservants emerged from behind the stage, each carrying long poles that had a wooden target board held in place at its end. Each of the men moved to various random points around the audience, raising the poles with the targets up high. After they were in place, a maid walked on stage; in her hands was a silver platter with a single red apple upon it. She stood next to Rip and remained silent.
The vampire familiar looked over the assembled audience, then gave them a wide grin. "Pay attention, now. And don't blink," she said aloud with gusto.
Rip raised the musket in her right hand and aimed the sights towards the first target, which was located to the far right of the stage. The guardsmen who were there to provide security for the princess almost drew their swords to stop her, but the brown haired woman waved them down. Henrietta watched the spectacle with curiosity. Was the piece of intelligence from her spymaster correct? Was the news the palace received about Louise and her strange familiar true?
"What is this peasant going to do? Shoot at all the targets one handed?" asked one of the students' parents. He had arrived early that morning to see his son and his familiar perform, so he hadn't been there to witness the events of the duel.
"Bah, how pointless," remarked another visiting noble. "Will we have to watch her reload one-handed as well?" This was met with chuckles from his group.
All the grumblings were silenced when Rip pulled the trigger. Her weapon went off with a massive roar, causing several of the familiars at attendance to shriek in fright. The audience gasped as the target she had been aiming for was hit dead center. The assembly began to clap politely, quite pleased with her marksmanship, when suddenly the target on the far left of the stage was hit, a large round hole appearing in the bulls-eye.
A second after that, the other targets began to be pierced as well, all of them dead center. What's more, with the targets' positioning, there was no way a bullet could have hit them all in a straight line. The center target was hit, then the one to the far left, then the far right, and far left again. Once the final target had been hit, bulls-eye no less, the audience was astonished into silence.
But Rip wasn't finished with her show yet, as she reached behind her and picked up the apple from the maid's platter. With a wink to the startled assembly, she tossed said apple high into the air whereupon it was intercepted by bright trails of blue light. Over and over it was hit, and it soon dawned on the audience that the strange azure trails was actually the afterimage of the musket ball as it zipped through the air at tremendous speeds. After piercing the apple numerous times, the fruit fell to the stage floor whereupon it burst open, falling neatly into eight even, separate pieces.
The audience was struck dumb as they tried to digest what they had just witnessed. Had a commoner truly performed such a miracle using a simple musket, or were their eyes playing tricks on them? The group to recover from their shock first were the students, since they had seen Louise's familiar perform such feats before. They jumped to their feet and began clapping, many cheering and whistling loudly. Pretty soon the others in the audience joined in, adding their claps and cheers to the general din.
Rip smiled politely and took a bow, not really enjoying all the praise. To tell the truth, she was quite uncomfortable with the sight and sounds of humans cheering her; she was much more familiar with the screams of fear and horror that usually greeted her when she was around. The vampire, feeling slightly nauseated, glanced over at her master and found that the girl had quite the opposite reaction. Whereas Rip looked as if she wanted to crawl under a large rock, Louise was almost beside herself with joy. The pink haired girl was smiling brightly, her eyes obviously holding back delighted tears. Her little master ate up all the accolade being heaped upon them, and Rip couldn't help but have a genuine smile after seeing the effect it had on her.
Louie turned to her familiar and gave the other woman a beaming grin, one that Rip just had to return. The small girl then reached out and gave her familiar a small, tender pat on the arm, before turning her attention back at the cheering audience. That small touch, that brief ephemeral graze, had been perhaps the only show of affection that the vampire had had in a long, long time. Rip felt her heart turn heavy, and she found herself in very real danger of tearing up.
Oh well. She could always blame the tears on joy if they ever came. Thankfully, they did not. As a vampire, Rip Van Winkle was very good at hiding her true emotions, at lest in front of a crowd. Therefore no one there saw her deep sorrow, no one except for a sharp-eyed little girl with bright blue hair. A girl who had a dragon, a girl who was also a master at hiding her own sorrow from the eyes of the ordinary people around her.